


3.141

by Insomne



Series: PROSE [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25056859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insomne/pseuds/Insomne
Summary: When Shiro leaves, even the cobwebs at the corner of Keith’s shack tremble in time with his sobs.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: PROSE [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814770
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	3.141

It’s the kind of anger that makes you want to set your lungs aflame— the kind that makes you see red and sweat blood. His eyelashes pulse in time with his heartbeat and he sees them because if he focused on something else, he’d lose himself. 

It’s the kind of self-hatred that makes your insides churn and forces your thoughts to revolt to white static— the kind that makes you want to vomit until your jaw is numb because you unhinged it while retching. His hands tremble and he can breathe in, breathe out, but not enough to stop his world from tilting. 

It’s the aching loneliness that makes your vision blur and your ears ring— the kind that makes you drop black ink on clear water, watch it curl, watch it dance, watch it dissipate, and do it all over again while you throw your self worth into the bottom of a whiskey glass. He wishes to rest for minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years. Numbers are just numbers and he’s tired.

_And then, he sees gold in a smile that’s willing to fight for what’s right, even if it doesn’t concern them._

He shakes. He can’t stop shaking. His bones hurt, violent and indefinite. Agony shudders and nestles itself deeper into the marrow of his bone— digging— twisting— monopolizing the space between his fourth and fifth rib. His eyes are red and puffy and itchy from grieving in silence. It’s too much. It’s too soon. He’s too raw. 

_And Shiro painted his sky gold with speckles of bronze and silver and amber and jade, and Keith wants to forever hide from him and tell him every single secret his heart has ever kept, like a tattletale, all at the same time._

His chest picks up speed. He hyperventilates around the idea of him. His throat closes around a sob, emitting an ugly, wet sound as he clamps down a palm over his parted lips. He’s not strong enough. He wasn’t strong enough when he lost Shiro to the confines of an endless heuristic on the sixteenth star of a constellation. He wasn’t strong enough when the words  _ pilot error  _ echoed through the crowded halls of the Garrison, stopping in front of Shiro’s dorm room like they knew they would never be invited inside. How in Hell did the Universe ever think Keith was strong enough to lose him again?


End file.
